3. Psychopath

MADISON

When Mom mentioned that Oxford Avenue was closer to school, I’m certain she meant it’s closer when driving with Caden, because on a bicycle, I have to admit the distance is quite challenging. Before heading to school, I make a quick stop at Starbucks and pick up my favorite nitro cold brew with sweet cream. I love it because it’s low in calories, including sugar, and the cream is absolutely amazing.

Filled with excitement, I make my way to school, still in awe of the campus, despite having seen it numerous times before. The thrill of knowing that I’m finally attending this university courses through my veins, making me feel on top of the world as I ride Jake’s Kona bike.

Our first class is an introduction to psychology, and I’m already looking forward to it. I’ve never been late to school, and I’m determined to maintain that record in college.

To be honest, I’m still surprised that my alarm woke me up in the living room but failed to rouse Caden from his deep slumber. When I left home, he was peacefully sleeping on my bed, as if he didn’t have a class to attend. It’s infuriating how he takes everything for granted. This is my dream, and he’s just living it to bring me down.

The only upside to him not waking up earlier is that I had the freedom to use the shower without any interruptions and get dressed without feeling belittled. That’s what Caden strives to make me feel whenever he’s awake.

Interestingly enough, I didn’t let him get away with what he did to me last night. Oh no! I snuck out and took the books he brought yesterday. So, on one hand, I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry about not having books on my first day of class, but on the other hand, I’m nervous about how Caden might react.

Back in high school, when he intentionally broke my laptop and I borrowed his as a replacement, he stormed into my lecture and threw a fit, claiming that I stole his belongings. He even called me a derogatory term in front of the whole class, fully aware that it could get him detention.

Well, these days, Caden has upgraded to being a calm, emotionless bully. He no longer screams in my face like he used to. Instead, he launches his attacks with nothing more than a smirk.

By the time I arrive at class, my face is flushed. I can’t help but feel proud of myself for making it to my dream university and being in my dream class. I’ve always wanted to understand people, and if I’m completely honest, my motivation comes from wanting to understand why some people can be friendly while others happen to be like Caden.

“Is this seat taken?” I ask a guy sitting in the first row. He has brown eyes and brown hair and is nervously chewing on his pen.

“Yeah,” he says with a nod when he looks up at me.

Just as I’m about to take a seat, a girl drops into the chair on my right, sandwiching me in the middle. She has a strong smell of garlic, which is quite repulsive considering there are other available seats. But she chooses to subject me to her pungent aroma early in the morning.

Before I can think of an alternative, a tall guy with a full beard walks to the front of the classroom.

“Why is my class so empty?” he says—and he happens to be the lecturer.

Perfect.

The whole class begins to murmur. Yes, our professor is young and extremely attractive. He’s dressed formally and carries a brown suitcase.

“I suppose it would be better if I explained how I work with students. But first, you can call me Professor Ian,” he introduces himself.

“After each class, there will be assignments, and I will frequently assign topics for you to work on either individually or in groups. I expect all of you to work hard because this is the foundation of psychology, and if you fail to keep up, you’ll consider your major a significant failure,” he says while taking out some notes and textbooks. “I won’t tolerate a disruptive class or tardiness.”

Just as Professor Ian utters the word tardiness, the door swings open.

All eyes turn toward the entrance where none other than Caden Thaddeus walks in. He sure knows how to make an entrance. He looks like he hasn’t taken a shower, yet the girls start blushing and smiling, clearly hoping he will sit next to them.

I am already annoyed. This is supposed to be my school, my class. But I’m forced to share it with my stepbrother, who apparently thinks he should major in psychology just to spite me.

Rolling my eyes, I turn my attention to the board in front of the class, rather than focusing on the guy who believes he’s some sort of perfection or, to put it bluntly, the guy people see as a celebrity.

It’s a shame, really. The girls drooling over Caden should have more dignity; after all, this is college. They shouldn’t behave like high school girls from those TV shows in the 2000s.

“Holy pepper,” the garlic girl next to me mutters to herself.

Alright. Caden has officially succeeded in hijacking my college life. He should proudly display it on his forehead. This is the reason he worms into my thoughts, because he’s always finding ways to create troubles for me. That’s his ultimate life purpose, cling to me, belittle me, destroy everything while at it, and then blame me for all of it. There is not a single minute of my life since I was fourteen that Caden hadn’t made me think of him.

Annoyed, I huff and rest my chin on my palm, hoping that in the next few seconds, things will improve and class will proceed as if Caden doesn’t exist. But that’s wishful thinking. Of course, he decided to study psychology just to make my life miserable, so why would he sit anywhere else but next to me?

I can’t believe that all he has to do is smile and nod at the girl beside me, and she is already swapping seats, blushing profusely.

I pause, dumbfounded, as I watch the scene he causes and how nonchalant he appears about it, not even sparing a glance in my direction.

“I will reiterate, tardiness is not acceptable,” Professor Ian sternly addresses my impolite stepbrother.

“Regardless of all the available seats, can’t you leave me alone?” I mutter under my breath, clearly annoyed. Caden hears me, because he gives me a sidelong glance.

Although, right now, I’m grateful for his expensive cologne, since it manages to refresh my nostrils after being assaulted by whatever that girl had on.

“Who gave you permission to take my books?” he asks, his attention back on the board.

“Siblings share stuff,” I say, air-quoting his infamous line from yesterday.

Caden leans in my direction, narrowing his eyes and sporting a smirk. “How interesting. If that’s the case, I have plenty of ideas.”

Knowing Caden, I’m sure he has wicked intentions in mind, so I quickly clarify what I mean. “I meant in terms of books, so stay away from my things and my bedroom altogether.” I emphasize my words.

His lips curl up. “My door is jammed. Expect me in your bed tonight. Besides, the couch is fine for you. So what’s the matter?” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Is everything alright over there?”

That’s when I remember we are in class—my very first class in college—yet Caden seems determined to ruin it for me.

“Sorry,” I say to the handsome young professor.

He doesn’t respond as he turns his back and focuses on writing PSYCH101 on the board.

Caden lets out a small laugh without saying a word. It’s something he often does when he wants to be rude.

“What?” I scold him.

“He sure has a terrible sense of style. What’s with those overalls? Who wears suspenders as a professor?” Caden snorts.

“You’re so disrespectful,” I hiss, as the boy next to me discreetly passes a small piece of paper to my hand, signaling it’s for Caden.

Letting out an inaudible groan, I hand the note over to Mr. Magnetic, who is seated beside me.

“Why are we even here?” Caden asks me in a mocking tone. I can’t believe him.

“Because this is my dream. Why are you here?” I reply firmly.

He begins to open the note as he answers, “Because of you.” He rolls his eyes as if it’s obvious. Well, yes, it’s obvious, but I never expected him to confess it so readily.

“So you admit that you’re just some psycho who has no purpose in life other than to torment me?”

My eyes flick to the message written on the paper. It contains a phone number and a heart. Some girls really enjoy playing mind games between us.

When he notices that I’ve seen it, he curls his lips at me in a supercilious manner and raises his hand. “Excuse me?” Caden blurts out, causing Professor Ian to furrow his brows, although he nods. “Can we discuss psychopaths?”

The whole class struggles to suppress their laughter at Caden’s foolishness.

“I just said we’re starting with the history and methods of psychology today. Psychopathology is the last topic on our syllabus,” the professor informs my ill-mannered stepbrother.

“Too bad. Looks like you’ll suffer a whole semester without a cure. Fine by me, though!” Caden shakes his head, feigning concern.

What is wrong with him? I need to focus, but I haven’t grasped anything from this class, and there’s still almost an hour left.

“Don’t act like you didn’t choose psychology because you wanted to understand me. Believe me, I’m one of a kind. Nothing will define me. You’ll just waste four years of your life trying in vain,” he sneers.

I can’t find a response, knowing that he knows it’s true.

“The two of you, I’ll see you in the next class.”

My eyes squeeze shut as soon as the professor utters those words.

This can’t be happening to me.

But it does, because Caden is struggling to hold back his laughter as he heads toward the door. The class falls silent, and everyone’s eyes are on us. Some react to Caden’s charm, while others learn from the consequences of such actions, with Caden and me as examples.

No. I didn’t just get kicked out of class on my first day of college.

“I have a date at home anyway. See you later,” Caden announces contemptuously, as if what just happened is normal—as if getting kicked out of class is an everyday occurrence, as ordinary as eating a slice of bread.

But what terrifies me even more are his words, and my eyes widen instantly. “What? Don’t you dare. Caden, I’m not joking. Don’t you fucking use my bedroom,” I say, following behind him, warning the arrogant boy ahead of me.

He walks down the sidewalk as if I’m not speaking to him and slides into his car without a response.

I have a class in the next hour, but I find myself getting on Jake’s bike and heading back to the apartment.

Please let me get there before he does anything. Please let him have failed at whatever plan he has.

I hope that by the time I arrive, he hasn’t achieved what he wants.

Leave it to Caden to turn my first day of school into the worst day imaginable.